


Sanity

by Stratagem



Series: Among the Gifted [8]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Mutant Underground, Post S1 EP5, Zingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12571988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stratagem/pseuds/Stratagem
Summary: For a moment John is just a guy playing with his dog, and for a split second, he lets all of his worries go.





	Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the Gifted!
> 
> A/N: Ahhh, that was such a good episode! I loved it to pieces.

It's lucky that the old condemned bank is so big.

It means there's enough room for everyone, for all of the new people who are hiding out from Sentinel Services. Still, it's a little crammed, way more packed than usual. They ran out of cots quick. There are people all over the place, crashed out on pallets and couches, curled up in sleeping bags and old ratty blankets. Families have claimed corners and hallways and rooms that still have holes in them from when Clarice was sick and cutting holes in the place. They set up wherever they can.

There are still people showing up. The Sentinel Services aren't letting up on Atlanta and the nearby suburbs and towns. That net that Reed mentioned is getting tighter, but there's a chance they might slip through it.

There's also a chance they won't.

John can't sleep. He's too busy planning, preparing for the worst. He knows he needs to catch at least a couple hours of rest tonight, but it's only one in the morning. It's early. Besides, there are more people to call, others to check on to make sure they're safe.

He's going down the list that Sage jotted out for him, contacting everyone who she noticed wasn't there, wasn't safe. Some people aren't answering. He doesn't know what he can do for them right now except hope that they're okay.

Not that HQ is necessarily even safe anymore. It might only be a matter of time before Sentinel Services grabs someone who knows where it is and can lead them there. They're going to need physical defenses, back-ups, contingency plans. And all of these people… They can't move anyone out. No one can go anywhere, no without catching the attention of the local authorities and after that Sentinel Services.

On top of that, he can't stop thinking about Gus. His best friend. Back from the dead and working for Sentinel Services. But that isn't right, Gus wouldn't do that, there was no way that the man he had run into war with would change that much. And how is he alive? John knows he saw him get shot, saw him go down outside of that relocation center. He remembers that helpless feeling, knowing he couldn't go get Gus, that it wouldn't make a difference. And now he's back.

He left Gus behind. If Gus is alive, that means that John abandoned him back there, that John left him to die. And John now has to live with that. It's a growing pit in his stomach, one that he can dwell on now that he's not in a life or death situation.

John leans forward to put his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands for a moment, his fingers sliding into his hair. There's so much to think about, so much to sort out.

Something soft brushes against his leg, and he glances down to see Zingo. The dog bumps against him again, rubbing her head against his leg. He hadn't even noticed her wander in, which spoke volumes about how distracted he was.

"Hey," he says, reaching down and scratching behind the mutt's ears, "Too crowded for you?" Zingo likes people, but there are a few more folks than she's used to. She butts her head against his hand, demanding more petting. "Go find Lorna. She's home." Which is something to be grateful about. He's glad to have her back, more than she'll ever know. He needs her help to keep this place running, he doesn't want to do it alone.

Zingo doesn't go. She plops down beside his chair and licks his hand insistently.

"Okay. Okay." John gets out of his chair and sits on the floor, letting the dog crawl into his lap. She drops down against him, her chin landing on his knee.

"Spoiled," he says, but he ruffles her ears, grateful for her fluffy warmth. She huffs and turns, driving her head into his stomach, affectionate and loving. For a moment he's just a guy playing with his dog, and for a split second, he lets all of his worries go. He lets himself pretend in that second that there's not a war at his doorstep and a hundred people relying on him and a rescue mission to plan. Maybe it's selfish, but for that second, he pretends that his life isn't chaos. It's not for any longer than a breath, but it gives him the break he needed.

Zingo slides off his lap and sits up, putting her paws on his legs, almost like she's comforting him. He had been against keeping her when Marcos had brought the scruffy puppy to the HQ, but now he's glad she's around.

"Thanks, girl," he says, rubbing her head against before he gets up and goes back to his list.

Everyone needs a dog, he decides. For their own sanity.


End file.
